Unexpected Disaster
by FireSaturn
Summary: The pace car, Edison Axle, experiences a disaster very similar to the one that caused his sister's death.


**Unexpected Disaster - Edison Axle fic**

by Firebird (FireSaturn)

DISCLAIMER: The movie, CARS, its characters, plots, and settings are the works of Pixar and Disney. The name for the pace car, Edison Axle, belongs to me, as do the name of #52 Leakless racecar, Hank Montana, and the original character, Joanna Axle, and should be treated as such. Please cite me as the creator if you decide to use them in a CARS fanfic. This was written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended in here.

**CHAPTER ONE**

Well, I suppose it's only natural to keep me on as Official Pace Car. I'm good at this job and I'm being paid to go out on the track and pace the racers. Runs in the family.

The race was being held at the Los Angeles Motor Speedway today, as you know that was where the tiebreaker race was a year ago. I come in early to work this time and meet the racers. One of them is Lightning McQueen, who now lives in Radiator Springs and is a friend of mine. I roll up to him and his crew.

"Hey, Lightning," I say good-naturedly, "Good luck in the race."

"Thanks, Edison," he answers, smiling, "Glad to have you pacing us today."

I smile at the pit crew and give Lightning's crew chief, Doc Hudson, a respectful dip of my front. I've always admired the Fabulous Hudson Hornet from racing history and it has been me and my family's honor to live in the same town alongside of him.

The racers are plentiful this time. About 40 or so cars had earned their place to race in the Piston Cup Championship. Among them is Chick Hicks, as usual acting arrogant and flashing his stupid thundercloud decal sticker at the press. I shudder and pass his tent quickly. I see alot of familiar faces and some new ones too.

I pass the other racer's tents, identifying each one with their sponsors and numbers and strove to memorize each one. At one point or two during the race, there would be a caution flag that would send me out onto the track to pace them and I wanted to know who they are.

Hank Montana, racer #52, drives up to me. I recognize him from the name of his sponsor, Leakless Adult Drip Pans, painted in big letters on his hood. He's a friendly fellow and has a sense of humor that can melt the scowl off your grill once he tells a joke.

"Hey, Edison," he greets me with a grin, "I hear you're living in Radiator Springs with your family."

"That's right," I reply, "Beautiful place filled with nice folks. My daughters wanted to live close to Lightning."

Hank chuckled, "They still his groupies?"

"As always," I grin at the racer.

"They're young," replied Hank, "Let them go through with that phase. They'll grow out of it once they get older."

I rolled my eyes. "I know there's some maturity in those hoods of theirs. Just got to find it."

The racer laughed at my attempt to make a joke. Even though my jokes are bad, Hank encourages me with his understanding nature and patience with me. I learn quite a few useful tips from him every now and then.

"The race is almost about to start," Hank told me, "I got to get to my place. You're going to lead us all out, right?"

"Sure, that's what I'm here for," I reply.

**CHAPTER TWO**

When a race begins, the pace car leads all the racers out onto the track, runs a few practice laps with them and then retreats behind the protective barrier of the Pit Row retainer wall. I always wait there until a caution flag drops then I drive out into the track and keep everyone in line until the apparent danger is cleared away then the racers resume their top speeds. Then I return back to my spot behind the retainer way and wait.

"Edison," the voice of my boss comes over my radio, "Caution flag has dropped. Get out onto the racetrack now."

I immediately switch on my yellow flashing lights and zoom out onto the track and position myself in front the racers, who slow down to keep pace behind me. When I make a turn, I recognize some of the racers closest behind me. Lightning McQueen, Hank Montana, Chick Hicks, and Sapphire Sky.

The caution flag stays down for a couple of laps since there had been a big mess on the track. I lead the pack through an empty part of the track where the pile-up had not gotten to. As we make the turns, I talk with the racers.

"How's Sally doing?" I ask Lightning.

"She's doing great," replied the red racecar, "We just became parents. She called just as I got here and told me that we have a son. She was wondering if you and Joanna would give us some parenting tips."

"Well, I'm sure we would be happy to help," I nodded, while concentrating on taking the turns, "We do have kids of our own, you know."

"Yeah, you're daughters are my groupies, I think," Lightning chuckled good-naturedly.

"They've gotta grow outta that sooner or later," said Hank, who was nearby.

"Try raising them, Hank, and you'll see that it's hard to get them out of that groupie phase," I reply, "You're wife was like that when The King was young. Does she still have a crush on him?"

Hank was taken aback for a moment, then regained his composure and continued to keep pace with me. "I'm widowed now, Edison," he told me, "Katherine's gone. I've raised my two boys all by myself and managed to get them to go to school and get jobs and have a life of their own."

"Gosh, Hank, I'm sorry," I said, now feeling embarrassed for mentioning Katherine's name, "I didn't realize Katherine's gone. I should've kept my big mouth shut."

"It's okay," Hank replied, his voice softer than usual, "I been able to cope as well as I can. It's still hard to realize that she's not beside me anymore when I wake up in our bedroom at home."

Chick shoves his way through to run behind me, causing the others to grumble in disgust.

"Ah, Hank," he says the the yellow Chevrolet Monte Carlo to his right, "I'm sorry to hear about your wife, but then why should racecars marry women when all they do is worry about you while you're racing?"

"Stuff it, Chick!" Sapphire snaps.

"Still the feisty girl, are you now?" mocked the green stock car, moving slightly over as if he were going to slam her into the retainer wall.

"Leave her alone!" Lightning growls.

"Oh ho ho ho!" laughed Chick, "trying to play the hero, eh, rookie?"

"Hey!" I snap at the racers behind me, "No fighting while under the caution flag."

"Stay out of this Pace Car!" he snaps back at me.

I bristle at being called by my title, "You know, I have a name."

"So what?" sneers Chick, "Makes no difference to me. A pace car is a pace car. Nothing more."

I growled, "So my sister was nothing but a pace car to you?"

"She wouldn't let me pass," answered the Buick Regal.

"You're not supposed to pass the Pace Car while under a caution flag," I reply, "You earned yourself a penalty that kept you out of the race for about 100 laps before you were allowed back in. My sister didn't get a second chance. She died of the damage that you caused her."

Lightning, Sapphire, and Hank must've been startled by this revalation and began to close in on Chick, shoving him back behind them where he had been before. He did not like it and tried to shove forward but was kept back by the other racers. He moved to the inside of the track and must've been preparing to do something terrible when the green flag would drop, but I didn't notice this and continued to keep the racers in line as I paced them.

When the green flag dropped and I began to make my way back to Pit Row when we passed it, I felt a jar on my left back fender. This caused me to swerve almost uncontrollably across the track as I tried to get a firm grip of the asphalt. I hit the retainer wall on the wrong side of the track. Hard. That hurt. I lost control when I hit the wall again and spun out. I must've looked like a wreck when I came to a stop on the infield. I felt pain in my sides and my vision was becoming fuzzy. My toplights were broken and dangling down my left side. I strain on my shocks, but I can't move.

The race must've been suspended as I didn't hear the roar of stock car engine anymore. I was now beginning to hear the sound of emergency ambulance sirens wailing in the distance. Three shapes of different colors (blue, red, and yellow) surround my wreck sight. I know who they are. I lose consciousness and my world goes black.

**CHAPTER THREE**

"Hey, Edison," called a voice that was beginning to penatrate my thoughts, "are you there, Buddy?"

"Edison, wake up," said a female voice a bit more gently.

"I don wanna goto school today, Mom," I must've mumbled like a little kid (I was told later by Hank), "I wanna stay home and bake cookies with you."

"I'm not your mother, Edison," the female voice replied, "I'm your wife."

"Huh? What?"

I start to become more aware of my surroundings. I'm in a hospital room, hooked up to various machines that make clicking and beeping noises. My vision becomes clearer and I see Hank sitting over by the window at my right, his eyes fixed on me. At my left, I see my wife, Joanna, watching me with her eyes filled with concern.

"Hey," she says when she notices me gazing at her.

"Hey," I answer quietly.

She nuzzles me, but I don't have the strength to nuzzle her back. All I can do is just smile at her and enjoy her closeness. Joanna doesn't mind that though. She is so understanding and caring, two of the reasons that I married her 15 years ago.

"How are you feeling?" she asked me.

"Sore all over," I answered, "What happened?"

"Chick caused you to wreck," Hank explained, "I saw him come in on the inside and hit you from behind. We all saw you start to swerve and the lose your grip on the asphalt and spin out against the wall, hitting it twice. The officials had to suspend the race so that they could send an ambulance to you."

"Did the race continue?" I ask.

"Yeah," nodded the Monte Carlo.

"Without a Pace Car?"

"Not entirely," replied Hank, "Sapphire offered to give up racing for the time that it will take you to recover and be the pace car until you are able to return to work."

"That was nice of her," Joanna replied, "She's certainly inherited the good qualities from her father."

"So, I'm out of a job, then?" I ask.

"Buddy," laughs Hank, "just think of it as a three month vacation. You'll get to spend more time with your family and be able to offer parenting tips to Lightning and Sally."

"What about Chick Hicks?" I ask.

"Oh, he's been suspended for the season," Hank grins, "He lost his chance to race for this years Piston Cup. Now the three top contenders are Lightning McQueen, Sapphire Sky, and me."

"Race your best, Hank," I replied, "I'll be cheering for you."

"Thanks, Edison," replied the yellow racecar, "I appreciate your support."

"Wait, did you say that Sapphire is one of the top contenders? Didn't you say that she offered to be the Pace Car?" I ask, suddenly apprehensive.

"I hear she's worked out an agreement with her father that she will be Pace Car on one day, her father will be Pace Car the next day, and so on," Hank explained, "That way she'll still be able to race on every other day."

"Oh, that's good," I replied, relieved that that problem had been solved quickly.

"You should rest now, Dear," Joanna says to me, "The doctors don't want you to overheat yourself. Visitors are only given a few hours, then have to leave."

"Yes, Ma'am," I answer obediently.

"I'll see you later," Joanna said as she headed for the doorway of my hospital room, "Come on, Hank. Mia and Tia need to be picked up from the stadium. I've left them there under the watchful eyes of Sapphire and King."

I watch them go, thinking that despite the wreck, I am happy that the situation won't hurt me one bit. My friends have taken care of the loose ends for me. Thinking happy thoughts, I drift off to sleep.

**The End**


End file.
